Ebube's World

"Africa, my Africa, Africa of proud warriors in the ancestral savannah, Africa of which my grandmother sings On the banks of ancient rivers." That's history past— Lest I forget, My grandmother no longer sings. Tales of great African warriors like Shaka the Zulu, Ignites my spirit  Tales of ancient civilizations like Egypt, Whose pharaohs were likened to gods, Keep the fire of African passion burning. Alas, the Africa I met Differs slightly from the ivory tower of darkness. Africa of "sit-tight rulers" Hoarding the throne for their sons and grandsons, Who would rather kill the youth than step down when the people complain. I've heard the story of a man sold for 30 pieces of silver, And I said, "At least he had value." I know a man who sold his people, an entire generation, For a position, to maintain relevance. He sold their ability to dream big, And what's worse? He was thinking only of his future. That's the Africa I'm in. Oh, we don’t...

 Valentine The only crime committed was being single. No be say admirers no come— Na them dey rush us! But we stand gallant, Like Agụnẹchemba, Dodging love bombs, Swerving their plans to whine us. Now, Valentine is here, And their revenge is set. Their mock anthem, "Lonely," Is queued on repeat, Their romance, a spectacle For our ever-watchful eyes, Whispering: "It could have been you." But we no shake— A barachaa ọsọ, a gụrụ miles! Results go land by March, And premium tears go flow. Joy fit still dey, But we no go move, 'Cause we’re steady. Happy lovers day  © Ebube